Tail’s Curse Chapter 54

“Smart girl. Well, if you can’t pull off a perfect crime, better not to do it at all.”

 

His breezily approving tone left her so dumbfounded she couldn’t help asking,

 

“So if it were a perfect crime… then it’d be fine?”

 

“Haven’t you ever heard of the presumption of innocence?”

 

He shot her a crooked, sidelong glance.

 

“Thanks to that principle, the person right in front of your eyes is still walking free instead of rotting in a cell. Lucky you. At least the taxpayers’ precious money isn’t being wasted on feeding me.”

 

“Hahaha!”

 

His shameless, roguish delivery finally broke her restraint, and laughter spilled out. 

 

Noah was unmistakably a man of atrocious character—yet he possessed a strange talent for making even the gravest matters feel trivial. 

 

And so, strangely, Cordelia never truly disliked that cynical, fearless way he spoke.

 

For someone like her—who had spent every minute, every hour of her life locked in grim, relentless seriousness—whenever she witnessed that bold, almost insolent attitude of his, it felt as though a cool sea breeze had swept straight through her chest, loosening every tight knot inside.

 

Cordelia, who moments ago had been trudging along with light, almost buoyant steps as though she’d never known days of utter listlessness, suddenly remembered something. Her expression brightened with a touch of girlish excitement as she turned to Noah.

 

“Sasha Ander invited me to a tea party. Did I ever tell you? Back on the ship—she was the one who saved me. May I go?”

 

“Ah. Right, that happened.”

 

He tilted his head slightly.

 

“You two must be quite close then? For her to personally reach out and invite you like this?”

 

At the casual question, heat rushed to Cordelia’s cheeks.

 

“I… I’m not sure. But she was incredibly kind to me. So I’ve always wanted—really wanted—to see her again someday.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

Noah idly twirled the snapped rose between his long fingers, voice low and indifferent, yet edged with something faintly mocking, faintly curious.

 

“I didn’t realize my lover—the woman who lives under the same roof as me—had made such an intimate little friend.”

 

“Cough!”

 

Cordelia, who had just leaned in to breathe in the rose’s scent, choked violently. The fit was so sudden and forceful that she doubled over, hopping in place as she coughed. 

 

Clicking his tongue in mild exasperation, Noah reached out and patted her back with steady, surprisingly gentle strokes. Then, as though the moment meant nothing at all, he drawled,

 

“You all right? Flower allergy or something?”

 

“N-no, it’s not—cough!—”

 

She knew perfectly well he was only pretending to be nonchalant, and that deliberate calm infuriated her. When she glared at him through eyes brimming with unshed tears, he responded with that infuriatingly feeble, lopsided grin. 

 

The sight made her so angry she jerked away from his hand—only for him to let out a short, laughter-laced sigh and soothe her even more gently.

 

“Did I scare you that badly?”

 

“What are you so startled about? Did I say something wrong?”

 

“D-don’t say weird things like that!”

 

“Which part? That you’re my lover…? Or that we live together…?”

 

“The second one!”

 

Cordelia huffed indignantly, then muttered under her breath, barely audible.

 

“And we don’t even live together anyway.”

 

“Ah.”

 

So that’s the problem? 

 

Noah’s eyes curved into soft, wicked crescents as he smiled.

 

“What, are you scolding me for staying out a few nights? Ohhh, scary.”

 

“That’s not what I meant!”

 

Cordelia shouted, voice cracking with frustration. She knew—he did these things without a shred of real intent behind them—but lately the casual teasing had started to sting. 

 

Part of her wondered if he found her laughable. 

 

The way he looked at her as though he already understood everything made her chest burn and her heart pound in helpless, furious confusion.

 

“Just… just don’t say things that could be misunderstood.”

 

“By other people? Or by you?”

 

The beautiful man slowly dragged the pad of his long index finger across his own lower lip as he echoed her words, voice low and teasing. 

 

Cordelia realized she couldn’t let this slide the way she always did. 

 

If she stammered and blushed and let it pass like usual, he would keep seeing her as someone he could toy with forever. No—if this kept happening, she would…

 

Her expression hardened with sudden, serious resolve.

 

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped saying strange things from now on. It makes me uncomfortable.”

 

“Strange things?”

 

Even though he asked in that deliberately provoking tone, she lifted her chin higher, more determined.

 

And then, gathering every ounce of courage she possessed, she shouted,

 

“S-stop trying to seduce me!”

 

The words burst out—raw, ringing, defiant—and echoed sharply through the quiet rose garden like struck crystal. 

 

Then silence fell, thick and sudden.

 

Noah froze, eyes wide as though he’d witnessed something utterly impossible. 

 

The shock in his normally unflappable gaze loosened Cordelia’s fingers; the rose slipped from her hand and fell to the ground with a soft thud.

 

In the next heartbeat she spun on her heel and ran—full force, cheeks blazing.

 

So embarrassing!

 

Aaaaaahhh!

 

Noah stood motionless for a moment, simply watching that small head retreat in silent, frantic screams—then he let out a short, coughing burst of laughter and chased after her with long, effortless strides. His light, teasing call clung to the back of her fleeing head.

 

“Miss Cordelia! Where are you going! A girl shouldn’t be wandering around alone at night!”

 

“D-don’t follow me! Go away!”

 

“Hahaha! Is that what you call running? Huh?”

 

“Go away already!”

 

I’m seriously pissed off!

 

Tears of mortification, irritation, and raw anger welled up; she sniffled loudly and ran even harder, blindly. The snot rising in her nose made her voice come out whiny and pathetic. 

 

How pathetic. Even I would think I’m easy and ridiculous.

 

“Miss Cordelia.”

 

I really hate this.

 

“Cordelia!”

 

I hate him.

 

“Hey!”

 

Eyes squeezed shut, she kept sprinting—until suddenly strong arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her clean off the ground. 

 

A sharp yelp tore from her throat. She thrashed wildly, but he didn’t let go. He only clicked his tongue in mild reproach.

 

“Hold still, will you? You’re so damn stubborn.”

 

“P-put me down.”

 

Instead of obeying, he effortlessly spun her around in his arms and cradled her against his chest like a child, one large hand gently patting her back. 

 

And heartbreakingly—agonizingly—the warmth of that tender touch, the soft sigh laced with laughter, the simple fact that he had chased after her… none of it felt bad. 

 

It felt like she had secretly hoped he would follow. 

 

What is this feeling?

 

When her struggles finally drained away, and she went quiet in his hold, Noah spoke in a tone half-exasperated, half-amused.

 

“Keep startling you like that, and I might actually break you.”

 

“Put me down…”

 

“Okay, okay. Since I’ve already got you up here, breathe some fresh air and calm down. Someone as tiny as you can’t even reach that high on her own.”

 

As though she had silently surrendered, her small frame went completely limp against him. He swallowed another quiet laugh. He could even hear the tiny, hiccuping sniffles. It was funny—and yet not entirely amusing. 

 

A faint crease formed between his brows.

 

Right now, he didn’t even know what the hell he was doing anymore.

 

“Just so we’re clear,” 

 

He murmured, voice dropping softer, more serious, “I never meant to make fun of you. Or treat you carelessly.”

 

“…”

 

“I’m sorry. That last joke… yeah, I might’ve crossed a line.”

 

The small, trembling shoulders slowly stilled. With a wry, self-deprecating smile he asked very softly,

 

“Should I put you down now?”

 

A tiny hesitation—then her body went utterly quiet in his arms. 

 

A moment later, small fingers stealthily curled into the front of his shirt, clutching tight. Noah’s lips twitched again; he barely managed to swallow the laughter by glaring up at the night sky. 

 

Gently—almost reverently—he resumed patting her back and smoothed his palm down the length of her hair, the way one soothes a crying child.

 

Cordelia had no choice but to admit it to herself.

 

He had warned her once—wanting him too much would only hurt her. But there was nothing she could do about it. Every time he showed her this unbearable tenderness, it felt devastatingly good. 

 

How could something feel this good? And she thought—Noah is so unfair.

 

He acts like he’ll give her everything, like he’ll hand over the whole world on a silver platter—and then tells her not to want it. Where is the fairness in that? He’s completely unfair.

 

Utterly stingy. Offering everything and then refusing to actually give any of it…

 

Bad man. Cruel, unfair man.

 

…But if he really did give her everything—would she even have the courage to take it?

 

The question echoed inside her chest and left her mute.

 

Tears gathered thickly in her lashes; her small, pouting face flushed a deeper scarlet. From the injustice of it. From the frustration. From the helpless, burning irritation.

 

Meanwhile Noah—still replaying the earlier moment in his mind—muttered to himself in half-amused, half-incredulous exasperation.

 

“I mean, did you really have to hate it that much? We are living under the same roof. That’s just stating a fact, isn’t it? Is it really something so disgusting to hear? Legally speaking, if we look at your current place of residence, it would come up as either Katisha’s Tudor House… or my estate.”

 

Hearing his absurd, off-topic grumbling, Cordelia sniffled hard through her reddened nose.

 

“That’s… not what I meant…”

 

“But that is what I meant.”

 

“Liar. Pure liar. Sir Noah thinks I’m an idiot.”

 

“You’re not an idiot.” 

 

His voice dropped, suddenly quieter, more intimate. 

 

“If anything, you’re too good at drawing lines. Far too careful for someone who’s supposed to be a fool.”

 

That gentle tone of voice, the uncharacteristic warmth that radiated from him—she hated it. 

 

Cordelia was certainly no fool; she couldn’t possibly fail to notice how differently he treated her compared to everyone else.

 

But uncertain kindness only makes a person more anxious. 

 

If she were someone solid and firmly rooted, she could simply accept it as it was—but she… Her roots were so shallow, so fragile, that even a spring breeze could tear her out entirely; too much rain and she would rot instead of growing. 

 

She knew. She knew it was all because of her own wretched inadequacy.

 

In a petty burst of frustration she reached up and lightly tugged a fistful of his soft platinum hair. He said nothing—just let her. She hated that careless, indulgent leniency even more.

 

“Do you really want to go there that badly?”

 

Because Sasha Ander invited you?

 

At his abrupt change of subject, Cordelia pouted, lips pursed, before giving a small nod.

 

“Yes. I want to go.”

 

“Hm.”

 

A brief, quiet exhale escaped him.

 

“She’s currently at the very center of Katisha’s social world. There’s a high chance that—whether she means to or not—rumors and whispers will start flying.”

 

“I know.” 

 

Cordelia’s voice came out flat, almost sulky.

 

 “They say she’s Sir Noah’s lover, after all.”

 

The pointed jab landed; Noah fell silent for a beat, then let out a low, theatrical groan that bordered on playful.

 

“Ouch. Revenge is brutal. I’ve never even shared a single cup of tea with that woman.”